A Nightmare in Two Parts
by lionofsounis
Summary: The best thing about Owen is that she always knows what he's thinking. The worst thing about Claire is that he never knows what she's thinking. That's what makes the nightmares so hard. / Rated Kplus for very brief implications


The best thing about Owen is that she always knows what he's thinking. He's blunt, he's honest, he's (usually) inappropriate, and he wears his heart on his sleeve. Even in his sleep, he's open: sprawled out, snoring noisily and shifting back and forth with no regard as to whether there may be another person in bed with him.

That's what makes his nightmares so hard for her. He's utterly unlike himself: he doesn't thrash around or scream or even speak like she does. Instead, tears trickle silently down his face and he curls up like he's trying to make himself smaller. His hands ball up into fists and he won't be moved for anything.

* * *

 _The worst thing about Claire is that he never knows what she's thinking. She's always surprising him - be it outrunning a T-Rex in heels or resigning her position at Masrani or inviting herself in to his showers (not that he minds). But despite her surprises, she herself is always controlled; with her sales-pitch, park-director smile and her smooth, poised movements. Even in her sleep, she's still and calm, taking up no more than her allotted space on the bed and refusing to wake up even in the face of his loudest snores and most absurd flailings._

 _That's what makes her nightmares so hard for him. She tosses fitfully, even violently (he has more than one bruise to prove it) and screams. She yells out for Zach, for Gray, for Simon, for Zara, for Owen, even for herself sometimes. But she never cries. She only screams._

* * *

She has to shake his shoulder and bawl his name into his ear before he'll wake up, and when he does, he's disoriented and shivering. So Claire piles the blankets on top of him and holds his hand tight. He stares at the ceiling for a long time before he moves and an even longer time before he'll talk about it.

He knows he has to talk about it. He knows that's the only way to let it go - at least for him. He's dealt with trauma before and he knows how to heal from it. He knows. But it doesn't make it any easier.

Claire, for her part, lets him do what he needs. She doesn't stroke his hair or his calloused fingers or move hardly at all. She doesn't press him to talk or stop him when he does. She just tucks the blankets in and holds on until it's all over.

* * *

 _All he has to do to wake her is touch her arm gently. She bolts up in a feverish sweat and gasps for breath. It's only once she's fully awake that the crying starts, so she throws herself into his chest and he rubs her back and smoothes her hair and whispers that everything is all right._

 _She doesn't like to talk about it either, and if he doesn't prod her she won't. Sometimes he leaves her be; sometimes the long cry is all she needs. But other times he talks to her until she talks back._

 _He worries sometimes that he pushes too hard. Everyone heals differently and she's so unlike him. Maybe talking it out isn't the best way to help her. But it's all he knows. So he questions her but holds on to her and when she needs to cry instead of answering he simply holds a little tighter and waits it out._

* * *

"It was about Blue," he says finally. "Like usual." He pauses for a long time. "She's always alone."

* * *

 _"It's always about those damn pteranodons," she tells him. "Or Simon Masrani's stupid helicopter letting them out. Give me a T-Rex any day," she says with a half-laugh, half-sigh._

* * *

Claire doesn't reply. She knows there's nothing she can say to make that better. Blue is a pack animal and her pack is dead. Nothing she says can change that or even make Owen believe otherwise. But she does squeeze his hand a little tighter.

* * *

 _Owen doesn't laugh. He knows it's not a joke. She didn't see the I-Rex eat people ten feet away like him. Instead she saw him and her nephews attacked by deadly flying dinosaurs and has to live the rest of her life knowing that that's what killed the closest thing she had to a friend. He knows she feels responsible and doesn't know if he can change that. So he just leans his forehead into her hers._

* * *

They lay that way for what feels like forever. Just as they're drifting off again, she hears him murmur something that ends with, " _alone_."

She knows what happened to him in the Navy, knows about the time his whole unit was killed except for him. She knows he didn't get much support from the army or the government when he got home. She knows that his dad left when he was nine and that his mom never got over it. She knows he kept to himself on the island, except for Barry and the raptors. So she knows that this time when he says "always alone" he's talking about himself.

* * *

 _They lay that way for what feels like forever. Just as they're drifting off again, she mumbles, "I'm sorry about Zara. And for not being with the boys. And for the ACU team and everyone else. And for you." She pauses. "I'm sorry about your raptors," she says, her voice getting even softer._

 _He's only sorry she has to carry so much guilt. She made some bad calls at the beginning, sure, but they were only what Masrani would have done anyway, with or without her orders coming first. But nothing he says can take away the sting of feeling responsible for someone else's life. What she really needs is time._

* * *

Claire leans in as his eyes close and kisses him on the forehead. She kisses him to tell him that he's not alone, even though he might not be awake enough to hear it. She wraps her arms around him to remind him that she's here. And she hangs on to tell him that she's not leaving.

* * *

 _Owen tilts his head up to kiss her forehead as she closes her eyes. He kisses her to tell her it'll be alright, even though she might not be awake enough to hear it. He wraps his arms around her to tell her he forgives her. And he hangs on to tell her that someday she'll forgive herself._


End file.
